Author's note: I will not even try to apologize for not updating for so long - I feel quite bad. In an attempt to make up for the long delay, I will upload two chapters today and another one tomorrow or on Saturday. Those three will be the last ones - then we will have reached the end of this tale. I hope you enjoy my conclusion.

A quick recap since it has been so long since my last update: Together with Bilbo, Kíli and Tauriel have returned to Erebor, their little daughter in tow. A first encounter with Thorin has gone relatively well, but who knows how he will really react to the latest addition to his family...

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit.

Chapter XXVI

"Come on then. Just a little sip! Don't be such a spoilsport."

"Sure, just a sip. As if you would ever leave it at that!"

"Well, even so, there's plenty, isn't there? And wouldn't you want to make sure that the wine you serve at your wedding is the best you can get? How d'you know it isn't complete rubbish without even trying it first?"

With no small amount of amusement, Kíli watched Fíli cross his arms, looking at the pouting Bofur with exasperation written all over his features. "I said no. Leave the blasted wine alone and find some other way to make yourself useful."

The jocular dwarf snorted, twirling the tips of his moustache between his fingertips. "Fine, suit yourself then. But don't come running to me when your bride leaves you on your wedding day because of your terrible taste in wine."

For a moment Fíli appeared to be seriously considering whether what Bofur was suggesting might actually happen, a vaguely horrified look crossing his face. That was when Kíli decided to step in, saving his brother and his already strained nerves from further teasing. Clasping a hand on the blonde dwarf's shoulder, he grinned at Bofur. "Why don't you head down to the kitchens and make sure that the food Bombur is supposed to be unloading actually makes it into the kitchen and not his belly?"

Bofur wriggled his finger at him. "Good point." To Fíli he added, "We can still have that little wine tasting later on."

This elicited a sigh from the older Durin brother, but otherwise he seemed satisfied that the matter was laid to test for the time being. Turing around, Kíli surveyed the barrels that had been brought into the great hall in preparation for the great celebration that was to begin in a few days hence. He had to admit – this was quite a stately amount of wine and ale. But then again, it had to be, considering the relatively large number of guests they were expecting.

The very few dwarven wedding ceremonies Kíli had attended while growing up in the Blue Mountains had all been of rather small size. The fact that now it was a prince of Erebor who was tying the proverbial knot, had however been deemed reason enough to have a big feast and a much larger wedding party than was common. Also, while the former citizens of Laketown had never been particularly wealthy, large weddings appeared to be the rule for them and of course Fíli would try anything in his power to make this day everything Sigrid could possibly want it to be.

Fíli, too, was looking about the room, though his gaze was much more critical than Kíli's. "Do you think this will do?" He asked his brother.

"It most certainly will," the younger brother responded with a slight chuckle. He knew Fíli. While he would never have admitted it, this whole thing was making him terribly nervous. Out of the two of them, it was Fíli who liked to plan ahead, who weighed up possible outcomes of a future event in advance in order to be prepared for whatever might come. Kíli, of course, had always been the one to jump headfirst into an adventure and figure out the details along the way. This had changed a little since Kíli had learned what it was to truly be responsible for the wellbeing of others and also since life had thrown him some obstacles that had not been easily surmounted. All in all, though, he supposed that Fíli was still the brother less prone to risk and uncertainty.

Fíli took a final glance around before he nodded. "You're probably right." Visibly relieved to lay the matter to a rest, he turned to smile at Kíli. "Say, little brother, have you ever considered this for yourself?"

Kíli frowned slightly. "Catering for a party?"

This earned him a well-deserved jab with Fili's elbow. "Marriage."

Kíli grinned a little wistfully. "I don't know. I mean, of course I have, but then I suppose Tauriel and I simply skipped that particular step." He looked away from his brother's inquisitive gaze when he added, a little more quietly, "And it is not as if a lot of people would regard that particular occasion as cause for a celebration."

Now it was Fíli's turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

Kíli rolled his eyes at him. "Don't play daft now. Do you really think Thorin would be ordering barrels of wine and stuff the kitchens with more food than even Bombur could devour if it was me and Tauriel exchanging vows in a few days?"

Fíli pursed his lips. "Maybe you underestimate him. He was not happy about me asking for Sigrid's hand either."

Kíli laughed, not entirely able to suppress a hint of bitterness. "And did he also pressure her to leave you, even though he knew it would break your heart as well as hers?"

Fíli did not respond to that and stared at the tips of his boots instead. Kíli sighed. "I'm sorry. Let's not ruin the mood with things long in the past. We should look forward, not back."

"Aye," Fíli nodded solemnly. "And there's much to look forward to - for both of us."

Kíli smiled tightly even while his heart gave a painful little thud of longing as the thought of his little family passed through his mind. He had only parted from Tauriel and Anniel a few hours ago and would be reunited with them before too long, but, silly as it was, he missed them.

Early that morning, his love had taken their daughter to Dale to visit Bard and his children and to see if Sigrid could use her assistance before the big day. Dís had gone with them, following her granddaughter as had become her habit for the past few days. Tauriel did not seem to mind at all, and neither did Kíli. In fact, he was glad for the additional protection that Dís' presence offered. One thing he knew for certain about his mother, was that she would protect his infant daughter as a lioness would her cubs. And while there had not been any reason for them to feel threatened in their safety since their arrival at Erebor, Kíli would certainly be glad for any watchful eye on that precious daughter of his.

Still, with the memory of times when life at Erebor had been anything but peaceful for him and Tauriel fresh in his mind, he longed to be at her side now, to assure himself in person that both mother and child were well. But that would have to wait. He had promised to spend this day with his brother who was growing more anxious by the hour.

"What do you say," he said, putting on a smile as he addressed Fíli, "that we leave things here be for a while and go spar a little? It's been a while since my sword had a chance to knock your blades out of your hands."

Fíli grinned. "I say let's get right to it. However, we'll see who will be divested of his weapon first, begging for mercy."

Kíli huffed playfully. "In your dreams, brother."

Laughing and teasing, they made their way out of the storage area and into the great hall. On their way to the weaponry, where a large training area had been cleared out and equipped with all sorts of useful devices since Kíli's departure, they passed by the closed doors of the throne room. As he glanced at the heavy doors, his stomach churned slightly. Since their arrival, he had not seen Thorin again and he was not sure whether it was Thorin who avoided him and his family or whether he was actually the one who unconsciously shied away from a direct encounter with the King Under the Mountain. A little bit of both, possibly.

His musings about his uncle's actions - or rather the lack thereof - led his thoughts back to Tauriel and to the conversation he and Fíli had just had about the formal status of their relationship. He frowned as he trudged after his brother, wondering once again what Tauriel's thoughts were of the whole matter of marriage. Surely it would not make all that big a difference whether they were officially husband and wife or not, would it? Those who were willing to accept the fact that a dwarf had found the love of his life in an elf and vice versa, would do so regardless of their circumstances because they were willing to let go of old stereotypes and prejudices. And those that weren't... well, Kíli did not think that any kind of formal ceremony, be it in line with dwarven or elvish custom, would sway the opinion of the ones who thought it was wrong for him and Tauriel to be together.

Despite all those, undoubtedly rational and well founded thoughts, Kíli could not quite chase the feeling from his heart that, after everything they had been through together, after everything they - and mostly Tauriel - had given up to be with each other - she deserved that he make his love for her known for the world to see. Others often referred to her as his elf and to him as her dwarf; the dwarves mostly called her 'his lass', but Kíli felt that none of those terms sufficed anymore to describe what they meant to each other.

His head snapped up when Fíli called his name questioningly, and only then did he realize that he had stopped in his tracks when inspiration had hit him like lightning. He knew, with sudden and simple clarity, what to do.

"Are you alright there, Kee?" Fíli asked, furrowing his brow as he observed his brother, seemingly frozen in place for no particular reason at all.

The broadest of grins split Kíli's face and he fell into step beside Fíli with renewed vigor. "Everything's fine," he replied, clasping a hand on the shoulder of his brother, who looked slightly perplexed by this sudden mood swing of the younger Durin brother. "Better than fine, actually," Kíli added as they descended further into the depths of Erebor.

"Tauriel!"

The redhead laughed and blushed a little when Tilda squealed and practically threw herself at her the moment she stepped over the threshold of the family home that the little girl shared with her father, brother, and, for a few more days at least, older sister. Swaying a little from the impact of the child's embrace, she handed Anniel over into the waiting arms of her grandmother and kneeled down in front of Tilda, holding her at arm's length in order to study her.

"You must have grown at least six inches since last I saw you," she remarked, earning herself a proud smile.

"Seven and a half!" Tilda exclaimed. Then her happy smiled faltered a little to be replaced by a wistful look. "But I still have to grow up a lot more before Da will let me marry a dwarf and go live in the mountain, like Sigrid."

Tauriel blinked, not quite knowing what to say to this. She was spared a reply, however, by a groan coming from Sigrid as she entered the room, wiping her hands on her apron. "Stop saying such things. Father will have a heart attack if he hears you." Tilda mumbled something unintelligible in reply and skipped from the room, singing some slightly unmelodic tune about seven dwarves and a casket of wine. Sigrid sighed. "All that time she spends with Bofur is leaving its marks," she muttered to no one in particular. Turning to Tauriel, the young woman smiled brightly. "How good to have you back here, safe and sound. And I see there's someone I have yet to be introduced to."

Tauriel returned her smile and reached for her hand. Squeezing it gently, she tugged the young woman closer, so that she could get a good look at the baby Dís was cradling in her arms. Sigrid smiled at Dís in greeting before focusing her attention on the little one.

Her eyes shone as she looked the tiny being over. "What a beautiful child," she said, and from the slight tremor in her voice Tauriel could tell that for Sigrid becoming a mother was a thought much more present than it had ever been for her - before Anniel, obviously.

Dís had to be thinking along the same lines because, watching her future daughter in law's face carefully, she observed, "She is, isn't she? As will your's and Fili's children. Only that they will in all likelihood be fair-haired and blue eyed."

Sigrid blushed at that. "Oh, I haven't even thought about such things, not yet," she protested.

Dís merely huffed. "Of course you haven't, dear." She gave Sigrid a quick once over. "Sons, I should say. Two blonde boys, maybe three."

Now Sigrid flushed in earnest, any reply getting stuck in her throat. Tauriel chuckled and reached out to gently pat the young woman's hand. "Trust her. She knows that kind of things."

Sigrid looked vaguely horrified at that, which drew a chuckle from Dís. Finally she took pity on the girl though and changed the topic. "Would you like to hold her?" she asked, looking down at Anniel.

When Bard's daughter nodded eagerly, the dwarf woman passed the child on to her. Anniel, who had been watching the three females that were so different in their outward appearances but seemed to be united by a kindred spirit with great interest, went willingly and immediately began kicking her feet happily as Sigrid gazed down at her, lightly caressing her pink cheek.

"Hello little one," Sigrid said softly. She glanced at Tauriel. "Did Kíli like the name you chose?"

Tauriel grinned and nodded. Back at Rivendell, Sigrid, after days of prodding, had managed to extract the name Tauriel favored for her unborn child. "He calls her Annie." When her daughter gave a delighted squeal at hearing her father's nickname for her, she added, slightly amusedly, "She seems to like that."

Sigrid chuckled. "It suits her." Looking around the room she expertly adjusted Anniel on her hip, so that she, too, could have a look around. "Well, Annie, let me show you around our humble dwelling."

Together, the women crossed the large room that appeared to serve a multitude of functions to enter the kitchen at the back of the house. Tauriel thought that Sigrid's description of the house as humble had not been that far off. For the Lord of Dale, Bard had certainly been modest in his choice for living quarters, the house being cosy and clean, relatively intact, but also quite small and without unnecessary flourish. But then again, Tauriel would not have expected anything else of the pragmatic bowman she had gotten to know.

Sigrid led them through the kitchen and onto a small terrace below which a small garden lay. From the equipment strewn across a large wooden table, it looked like Sigrid had been busy repotting herbs and other plants that had outgrown their containers. Tauriel smirked. Leave it to Sigrid and her unaffected nature to be doing some garden work a mere few days before a royal wedding in which she was to play one of the two most central roles.

Tauriel could tell though that the young woman's nervousness was merely extremely well hidden when she asked, her manner studiously casual, "How are the preparations going?"

Dís and Tauriel exchanged a knowing look. It was the dwarf woman who finally answered, albeit a little more vaguely than Sigrid would probably have wished for. "Everything is being taken care of. You will not find yourself wanting for anything on your wedding day."

The reassuring smile she sent her future daughter in law told Tauriel that Dís greatly cared for the young woman and that the time since Sigrid and Fili's engagement had allowed friendship to blossom between the two women. But, just as Dís relationship with her older son was different from that with her youngest, so was her friendship with Sigrid of a different nature than her bond with Tauriel. Where Sigrid was a safe haven for Fíli, who had always been of steadfast character even if a little shy from time to time, Tauriel had been the one to put things into perspective for Kíli, who had in some way always been a little lost in the world he has grown up in and had always seemed to be looking for something he did not even have a name for. Her sons were lucky, but in the end it was herself that Dís counted as the luckiest ones of them all. After all, she now not only had two sons whom she loved with every fiber of her being, but two daughters and even a perfect little granddaughter. And her stubborn brother, of course.

The women settled down at a table in the kitchen, talking about the wedding, the baby, and many other, happy things. Automatically, Dís and Tauriel began to help when Sigrid started to prepare dinner and Tauriel thought how nice it felt to be doing something so normal, without having to worry about what danger might be lurking around the next corner.

They were interrupted, after a while, by the arrival of Bard who looked surprised but not displeased to find his kitchen full of people. He immediately invited them to stay for supper, however Tauriel declined his invitation. She felt a little silly to even admit it to herself, but after a whole day away from Kíli, her heart and soul longed to be at his side. Dís grinned knowingly when she watched Tauriel fumble for a reason why they wouldn't stay, and finally came to her aid by stating that without her there to supervise things, a dinner held among the dwarves at Erebor might very well result in mayhem and could thus possibly pose a danger to the elaborate wedding decorations they had gotten started on the day before.

Bard shot Dís a look at that and Tauriel had to try very hard not to break down in giggles when she watched him debate with himself whether the dwarf woman could be serious. In the end, he simply let the statement pass without further reaction and turned to Tauriel.

"Before you leave, will you allow me to speak with you for a few moments?"

Surprised, she looked up at him. She knew Bard held her in high regard simply because of the fact that she had come to the aid of his children in what seemed now like another life. However, there had never much interaction taken place between them after that day she and Legolas had followed a pack of orcs into his home, common courtesies and expressions of his gratitude set aside. Because of this, she wondered - what could it be that would make him seek a private conversation now?

"Of course," she replied quickly, curious what it was that the bowman had to say to her.

With a smile at Sigrid, who held Anniel and looked quite satisfied with not having to give her up quite so soon, Tauriel followed Bard back out into the back garden where he took a few steps until he came to stand at the far edge of the stone terrace, overlooking parts of Dale. Tauriel came to stand beside him, waiting patiently for him to speak.

After a few moments of silence, he turned back around to glance over his shoulder and Tauriel followed his gaze. Through the open door, Sigrid could be seen laughing softly at something that Dís had said.

The Lord of Dale sighed. "Do you think it is wise of me to let her go?"

Tauriel looked at him, stunned for a moment that he would discuss a matter so personal with her. She cleared her throat. "You would be unwise not to," she said.

Bard frowned, but nodded for her to continue.

"I have only known her for a short time," she said, "But you have known her all her life. Do you think she would simply have given up on the idea if you had forbidden it?"

A slow smile spread across the bowman's face. "No. Where my children love, they love unconditionally."

Tauriel responded with a smile of her own. "Then you see now what I mean?"

He nodded. "That by interfering with her wishes, I would push my daughter further away from me." He sighed. "I am just not sure, though, whether I am truly ready to let her go."

Tauriel cocked her head to one side. "She will not be far away though."

Bard smiled a little wistfully. "That she won't be indeed. Still – it will not be the same and I don't think I can ever bring myself to like that."

"You do not have to like it," Tauriel reasoned. "What is more important, is that you accept it."

The Lord of Dale sighed once more. "That I do, I suppose." He smiled. "It is true what they say of elves. You are wise people."

Tauriel smirked, feeling more comfortable in Bard's company than she would have expected. "Is it my wisdom then that made you seek me out?"

He chuckled. "In part. What I actually wanted to discuss with you, though, is what your plans are for after the wedding."

Tauriel was taken aback by Bard's interest. Also, she did not quite know what to answer. In their anxiousness over what would happen once they reached the Lonely Mountain, she and Kíli had never decided what they would do after that. There had been some vague talk of returning to the Dúnedain at some point in the future, but not anytime soon. Journeying all the way across Middle Earth with an infant had been risky enough once – if they went back, they would wait until Anniel was less vulnerable to the dangers of the open road.

She knew, of course, that someday soon, someone would approach them about remaining at Erebor – Fíli, most likely, or possibly also Dís or Sigrid. And while Tauriel wished with all her heart that the answer to this question could be yes, she doubted that it ever would be. Too conflicting where the roles others expected them, and particularly Kíli, to fulfill. He could not act as right hand of his uncle, as the prince that he was by birthright, and at the same time fight for the interests of his small family. Those two roles would always clash.

"Why do you ask?" she questioned Bard, seeing that he was still expecting to hear an answer from her and she could not give him one.

He looked at her intently for a moment before giving an almost unnoticeable shrug and turning to gaze at what they could see of Dale. "You are a brilliant fighter," he said. "Skilled, but also passionate. And so is Kíli, from what I have seen and heard. We do not have many good fighters among us. The population of Dale is growing steadily as is the cities wealth – it worries me that we are yet unable to protect ourselves, should the need arise."

A frown formed on Tauriel's brow as she tried to determine where the bowman was going with this. "Surely the Dwarves of Erebor would come to your assistance if you were to find yourselves in any danger. Or possibly even the Elves of Mirkwood."

Bard made a soft sound at the back of his throat. "I like to believe so," he said. "But still, I would rather not have to rely on the help of others when it comes to the safety of my people. Especially if those others are known to be of slightly unpredictable temper."

Tauriel smirked. "I think I understand quite well what makes you say that. But what does any of this have to do with me? Or Kíli, for that matter?"
Bard turned to face her. "I hoped you might consider settling at Dale for the time being. I and some of the more skilled fighters have been working on plans to train a city watch. We could use your help with that."

Tauriel gaped at him. "A life at Dale…" she muttered, not quite able to wrap her head around what Bard was suggesting. When they had set out for Eriador many months ago, Dale had been a different place from what it was now. Where then it had been something of a temporary shelter for a group of poor refugees, it was now blooming into a self-sustaining city once more, a place where one might actually make a life for oneself.

"Think about it," Bard interrupted her musings. "You might find many advantages in this scheme. Your extended family would be close, but not too close. Your daughter could grow up in a reasonably safe place and with other children surrounding her." He grinned. "Also, both of my daughters would be delirious with joy if you said yes."

Tauriel ducked her head as a shy smile spread across her lips. Inside of her she could feel that familiar flicker of hope, but she tried her best not to let it overtake her. Firstly, this was a decision she would have to discuss with Kíli. Secondly, while she could clearly see the many appeals of what Bard was suggesting, she also saw some of the dangers of this proposal of his, the relative proximity of Dale to her former home in the forest being one of them.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Bard leaned in a little closer and said, his voice lowered, "If you agreed you would be welcomed as citizens of Dale. Which means that you would have my protection against whoever might seek to bring you or your family any harm. Even if that said person were a king, for example."

Tauriel looked at him for a long moment, her lips pressed firmly together. Then she nodded slowly. "I will discuss this matter with Kíli," she said. "Thank you, either way, for putting so much trust into our abilities."

Bard straightened up and smiled. "Oh, I am sure that trust is well-placed."

She returned his smile. His attention was drawn away quickly, however, by Tilda appearing in the door that led into the kitchen.

"Da!" she called. "Come, quickly. I made myself a hat for the wedding that looks just like the one Bofur wears. But Sigrid says I look ridiculous in it and she won't let me wear it."

Bard shot Tauriel an apologetic smile before heading off towards the house to handle whatever drama had ensued during his absence. Tauriel looked after him, grinning to herself as she thought about how happy he and his children seemed to be here. They had not been unhappy when she had met them, their love for one another as a family making them strong in ways that riches and material comfort never could. Still, their lives had been riddled by hardship, fear and uncertainty about the future dangling over their heads no matter where they went. Now, as she watched Bard, Tilda, Sigrid and Bain, who had walked into the kitchen unsuspectingly and was now being forced by his sisters to take a side, she felt that they all seemed so much more at ease with themselves and the world around them than when she had first encountered them in Laketown.

She turned back to pensively look at the city of Dale as it stretched out below, the rays of the late afternoon sun warming her face. She hugged herself and thought that maybe Bard was right – maybe there was a way for them to be both safe and happy without having to make any sacrifices, without leaving those they loved too far behind.